


Old Dog, New Tricks

by doodledinmypants



Series: Uncaged [4]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: (Yes Really), Ambiguous Relationship, Angst, Background Jigen/Lupin, Background Jigen/Zenigata, Biting, Crying, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Navigating relationships, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Some Alcohol Use, feral!Jigen, implied sexual trauma, includes cover art, kintsugi used as a metaphor but not exactly as expected, mention of brainwashing, mention of human trafficking, references to some of the movies/tv specials, references to the end of part 5, references to various part 2 episodes, sex interrupted by panic attacks, traditional lube recipes, yam lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodledinmypants/pseuds/doodledinmypants
Summary: Jigen finally takes Goemon up on his offer to spend time at his rustic cabin in the mountains. As he leaves his world to live in Goemon's for a while, he tries to use Goemon's style of training to better control his 'feral' streak. Can Jigen navigate his trauma and accept Goemon's feelings for him before he ruins what they already have? Spoiler alert: Yes.Part of the Uncaged series. May be helpful to read the other entries in the series for context, but COULD potentially be read as a stand-alone fic if you aren't interested in the other stuff.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke
Series: Uncaged [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082864
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a cute pwp with Goemon and Jigen training in the mountains, doing a little hand-to-hand combat, and Jigen going feral on Goemon in a sexy way. Instead, I wrote 9k words of FEELINGS and TEARS. Oh, and smut. There is eventual smut. 
> 
> My first multi-chapter entry in this series and in the Lupin fandom. It's all written, though, so I'm posting it all at once. If you don't see all of the chapters, just wait and refresh in a few minutes. 
> 
> Shout out to Hazza and TabbieWolf on the Lupin Discord server, plus my bff ReadingArdvark, for reading this over in advance and giving me such lovely feedback. I love all of you!

  
Jigen shivered. Though the waterfall wasn’t quite ice-cold, as it was the middle of summer, the mountain spring that fed it was certainly chilly enough to be bracing. He did his best to maintain his posture the way Goemon had shown him, sitting cross-legged on a flat rock beneath the thundering sheet of water. It roared in his ears until the white noise canceled out everything else, including conscious thought. There was only the waterfall, the pounding cold, the _now_. Jigen was starting to appreciate why Goemon did this: it was meditation by brute force. 

Then, he sneezed, got a snout full of water, and had to scramble out from under the waterfall while hacking and sputtering in a highly undignified manner. The spell was broken. He waded over to the side of the stream and stretched out on the sun-warmed grass like a drowned lizard. Goemon joined him not long after, standing dripping over him in his wet fundoshi. 

“You stayed under much longer today,” Goemon said, and it was hard to tell whether he was pleased with Jigen’s progress, or disappointed that he hadn’t done better, but wanted to be encouraging regardless. 

“I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” Jigen said with a lopsided grin. The sun felt good on his bare skin, drying his boxers quickly. “The whole ‘head empty, no thoughts’ thing has its appeal, that’s for sure.”

Goemon grunted agreement and offered Jigen a hand up. They made their way back down the mountain path, thankfully free of sharp obstacles for their bare feet to encounter, until they reached Goemon’s cabin. It was a simple structure, traditionally styled but beautiful in an austere way. Jigen had gotten used to the lack of indoor plumbing and electricity in short order. He had a supply of cigarettes laid in for weeks and an emergency bottle of whiskey, but Goemon had informed him that the point of this training was to do without such comforts (he called them ‘crutches’) as much as possible. There was a small emergency generator for charging their cell phones, too, but they didn’t get much of a signal way out here in the mountains anyway. 

…

When Goemon had first invited him and Lupin out here, during the PeopleLog debacle, they’d refused. Jigen and Lupin enjoyed their creature comforts and cities full of people. Besides, they weren’t going to just hide away from their problems. However, when Goemon extended the invitation a second time, on a lull between jobs, to Jigen alone… well, how could he refuse? He knew Goemon wouldn’t share his hidden sanctuary with just anyone. This was as explicit an expression of love as the samurai had ever shown him, if one didn’t count all the times he’d saved Jigen’s ass from certain death. 

(And no, they weren’t going to talk about that time on the beach with the mouth-to-mouth. Jigen was still mortified about that.)

Goemon had been pleased when Jigen accepted. He’d met the gunman at the airport, rode with him in Jigen’s ‘acquired’ car, made him park in a secluded area at the base of the mountain, and then they’d hiked for four solid hours to the cabin. Jigen was in pretty good shape for a chain smoker over the age of thirty-five, but he was wheezing by the time they stepped across the threshold. 

“When I am here, I am training,” Goemon informed him. “When you are here, you may spend your time as you wish, but if you wish to train with me I will not be lenient.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Jigen said, only a tiny bit facetious. “Are we going to sit under waterfalls or cut grass or something?”

“Those may be among our training exercises,” Goemon admitted. 

“You do realize I work with guns and not swords, right?”

“It had not escaped my notice, no.” Jigen could swear he saw the shadow of a smile before Goemon’s face returned to its impassive default state. “However I believe my style of training could benefit you anyway. If you wish to learn some basics with a sword, I can loan you a bokken. Otherwise, you are a genius with your guns. Apply what you learn to that.”

“Huh. Broadening my horizons a little. I like that.” Jigen smirked. “I could teach you how to shoot, too, while we’re at it.”

Goemon visibly twitched at this, frowning. “While I see the value in learning such a skill, I must decline.”

It was Goemon’s one major flaw: he hated guns. Well, he was also as foolish for a pretty face as Lupin, unreliable with any sort of technology, sometimes hard to communicate with; and, despite trying to go for that zen facade, he had a hell of a temper. Okay, so it was one of several major flaws.

Regardless, Jigen thought he was amazing. The only person on their little team that Jigen worked with maybe even more smoothly than Lupin himself was Goemon. Together, they took out literal armies of assassins, and synchronized their movements to best complement the other without getting in the way. That moment when Jigen aimed a gun at Goemon’s face at near point-blank range and pulled the trigger, knowing the samurai would draw his sword just in time to cleave the bullets and send the halves around his body to strike behind him… it had been a moment of pure trust and intuition. Jigen still got shivers thinking about it. The very good kind of shivers. 

“Suit yourself,” Jigen said casually. “If we’re going to run around this mountain, though, I’m getting some shut-eye.”

Goemon nodded. “A wise plan. Ah, there is only one futon. I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

 _There was only one bed,_ Jigen thought with idle amusement. _It’s like the start of some cheap romance story._

Out loud, he said: “That’s fine. We’ve shared beds before. Just push me over on my side if my snoring gets bad.”

…

It had been a week of sharing the futon with Goemon, sharing the cabin, the mountain, sharing _everything_. Jigen wondered when he’d get tired of it, this peaceful lifestyle, this bizarrely casual intimacy with Goemon. He wondered when Goemon would get tired of _him_. Yet, as they were in their combat styles, they seemed to instinctively know how to move around one another in a more domestic setting, like a dance that they both knew the steps to without ever being taught.

Sometimes it got like that with Lupin, during downtimes, but Lupin inevitably got bored and fidgety and either started filling every available surface with gadgetry he was building or modifying, or started planning a new and ridiculous heist. Lupin mostly only used Jigen as a sounding board, then (though Jigen did remember the puppets fondly). 

But sometimes, things just clicked for them. Jigen would cook dinner and Lupin would set the table. It was a comfortable sort of symbiosis. Most of the time. Most of the time Jigen didn’t want to wring Lupin’s scrawny neck. Most of the time he didn’t growl and snap at Lupin like a rabid dog when his partner stepped on his last nerve. Maybe that was why he’d been so quick to accept Goemon’s invitation. He needed to get… _away_. Not just from Lupin, but from the city. From people. Goemon was practically a part of the landscape out here, so he didn’t really count as ‘people,’ and Jigen would have meant that as a compliment if he could figure out how to voice it aloud.

After a week, Jigen felt like he had lived out here on the mountain for ages. He woke with the sun and went to bed when the lamp burned low and Goemon said it was time to sleep. He ate simple meals of rice, pickled vegetables, and meat and fish that they caught themselves. It wasn’t Jigen’s style at all, and yet, he could see why Goemon lived like this. The simplicity, the connection to nature, the serenity and solitude: it all had a profound calming effect on Jigen’s frazzled psyche. 

“Lupin asked you to invite me, didn’t he?” Jigen asked at the end of that first week. 

Goemon’s hands stilled where he’d been stirring the pot of stew for their dinner. He looked abashed at having been found out. “I apologize, Jigen,” he said, bowing his head. “Lupin seemed worried about your well-being. He thought it would be good for you to come here. I agreed. I hope that was not too presumptuous of me.”

Though Jigen felt a twinge of annoyance at Lupin for (as always) making decisions for him without his input, he couldn’t get mad at Goemon. It was hard to get mad at the guy when he was so earnest. Jigen could believe that Goemon sincerely wanted to help him. With Lupin, maybe that was the excuse he gave, but Lupin was just as likely to have orchestrated this to get Jigen out of his way for awhile. _That_ was the part that stung.

“It’s because I’ve been having… problems,” Jigen began hesitantly. “That brainwashing the traffickers did to me and Pops? It’s still rattling around in my skull. It didn’t just go away.”

Goemon returned to stirring the pot over the fire. He said nothing, but his posture was open, accepting. _Tell me,_ he said without speaking.

Jigen took his time corralling his words. “They said I was more like a mangy coyote than a dog, that I wouldn’t make a very good pet.” He snorted a laugh at the recollection. “I think I hung onto those words harder than I thought. I keep catching myself acting like a… a wild animal. Jumping at sounds. Lashing out at Lupin, more than usual, and not with fists or even my gun. I… _bit_ him, Goemon. Not like playing, either, I bit him hard enough to draw blood. We weren’t even fighting. We were just…”

Jigen’s teeth snapped shut, trapping the words he was about to say. He and Lupin hadn’t really told Goemon about what they got up to when they were really bored. He assumed Goemon probably knew, but it wasn’t something he wanted to go around advertising, either.

“Do you fear these changes?” Goemon asked, checking the rice next. He’d accepted everything Jigen said without showing a hint of surprise or disgust. 

“Most of the time, it’s no problem,” Jigen insisted. “I’m just worried that one of these times, I’m gonna lose control on a job and get someone killed. One of _us_ , most likely.”

“Which is why you agreed to come here, even though you knew Lupin might have had something to do with it. You came to… train yourself.”

Snorting at the pun, Jigen tipped his hat back just enough to get a look at Goemon’s face. “I’m plenty well _trained_ , Goemon. I just wanna make sure I’m in control of this new side of me. I need to make it work for me, not the other way around.”

Goemon hummed in acknowledgment, possibly agreement. “I can help you.”

“Yeah?” Jigen gave him a considering look. “I guess you do have the best self-control of anyone I know. Not that I’ve got a huge sample size, but…”

“We’ll start in the morning. In the meantime, dinner is ready.”

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begin, sex almost happens, Jigen has a panic attack, and things are... strained between Jigen and Goemon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this was supposed to be a PWP? Well, it went pretty far off the rails right around this point.

That night, Jigen slept more soundly than he had in weeks. It was as though something tight had finally released in his chest, letting him relax muscles he hadn’t realized he was keeping tensed. He woke to the soft, comforting sound of Goemon breathing, awake but not yet risen from the futon. Jigen cracked open one bleary eye to see Goemon watching him, something soft and unreadable in his expression. It vanished as soon as Goemon realized Jigen was awake. 

“Good morning,” Jigen yawned, stretching and scratching himself drowsily. “So, when do we start this special training?”

“Right now.” Goemon launched his attack, pinning Jigen to the futon. Jigen’s reflexes kicked in: he reached for his gun, only to find that it wasn’t under his pillow where he’d left it. Snarling with fury, he gripped Goemon’s arms and twisted his hips to flip them over, reversing their positions.

“You moved my gun!” Jigen accused, baring his teeth.

“A necessary part of the training,” Goemon grunted. “As was attacking you before you were fully awake. I needed you to tap into your instinctual responses.”

“Dirty tricks.” Jigen had to acknowledge that it was smart, however. Now Goemon could get a firsthand look at what he was dealing with. “I’m surprised you managed to take it without me waking up, though.”

“It was not easy,” Goemon admitted. “I had to wait until I was certain you were deeply asleep. I consider it a triumph of my skills as a thief.”

“Your ancestor would be proud.” 

“Thank you.”

The conversation was interspersed with grunts, gasps, and growls as they wrestled around on the futon, tangling up the blankets and knocking into the thin walls of the cabin. Neither attempted to strike the other, simply vying to be the victor by immobilizing their opponent. They scuffled like puppies, Jigen playfully snapping his teeth and Goemon grinning fiercely at him. Then Jigen somehow got Goemon flipped onto his belly, dropping all of his weight directly onto the samurai’s muscular back, and, before he could think about it, clamped his teeth down over the nape of Goemon’s neck. Before Goemon could stop himself, he _moaned_.

For a breathless moment, neither of them moved. Then, Jigen unclenched his teeth and licked cautiously over the red mark he’d bitten into Goemon’s skin, soothing the pain. Goemon’s breath hitched in a gasp and Jigen could see a vivid blush creeping down his neck. Jigen had already been sporting a mild case of morning wood, which he’d tried to ignore while they were wrestling, but now it made itself known with a vengeance, throbbing against Goemon’s backside. Jigen had worn his nightshirt to bed, and Goemon only wore his fundoshi. Jigen’s nightshirt had ridden up in the scuffle and the head of his cock was peeking out from under the rumpled hem. It would be so easy to just rut up against Goemon like this, maybe tuck it under that twist of fabric that covered him, slide his cock up along the valley between those firm cheeks…

“Jigen,” Goemon said in a low, shaking voice, snapping him out of his thoughts. Jigen scrambled off of Goemon like he’d been burned. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jigen mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That was… I didn’t mean to…”

“No apology necessary,” Goemon cut him off, rolling over and propping himself in a half-sitting position. His hair fell into his face, but Jigen could see that he was still blushing through the messy black curtain. He could also see that Goemon was hard, too, the long curve of his cock straining against the front of his fundoshi. Jigen licked his lips and swallowed dryly, and Goemon’s blush deepened. “This was not quite how I meant for our training to begin.”

“Were you hoping it’d end up here eventually, though?” Jigen asked boldly. 

Goemon shuddered and closed his eyes. He nodded. 

That was all the confirmation Jigen needed. Prowling back over to Goemon, he straddled the samurai’s hips and leaned in to kiss him. Goemon met his lips hungrily, if inexpertly, with hot wet gasps and scraping teeth. Jigen put a hand on his jaw to steady him and deepened the kiss with curling strokes of his tongue. Goemon melted into the touch, making a soft sound of surrender through his nose. When Jigen moved his mouth down to kiss and suck at Goemon’s neck, he outright mewled, and Jigen bit him again. He had learned from his mistake with Lupin, though, and was careful not to bite too hard. Goemon gave a short, startled cry, bringing his hands up to clutch at Jigen’s back, fingers twisting in the fabric of his nightshirt. 

“Whaddya got for lube?” Jigen huffed against his skin, grinding his hips helplessly down against Goemon’s. Even if he just stroked them off together, he didn’t want to deal with chafing. 

“Hnnngh,” Goemon whimpered in response, struggling to find his words. “…Cabinet. Over there. Little blue jar.”

Jigen didn’t want to stop, but he knew if he didn’t now he’d have an even harder time later. He kissed Goemon in a wordless promise to continue in a moment, then rolled off him to fetch the indicated jar. It smelled faintly of clove when he opened it. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s a traditional recipe. Grated yam, clove oil, and boiled seaweed.”

Well, Jigen wasn’t going to knock it until he tried it. It smelled pretty nice, at least. Kind of earthy and sweet. “This more of a lotion, or could you use it internally if you wanted?”

Goemon covered his face with one arm, as if to hide his blush. “Y-you can use it for, ah, penetrative acts.”

Jigen snorted at his delicate phrasing. He shed his nightshirt before crawling back over to the futon with the jar in hand. “Do you want me to ‘penetrate’ you, Goemon?”

Now, Goemon stopped hiding. He met Jigen’s gaze directly, expression serious. “Would you allow me to have _you_ , Jigen?”

There was an unspoken question beneath it. Jigen faltered. He’d only allowed Zenigata to fuck him, and only the one time, since they’d escaped the trafficking ring. He hadn’t even let Lupin take him like that on the rare occasion that they had sex with each other, though he’d considered it a few times in the moment. Before, Jigen had enjoyed—even preferred—to be on the receiving end during sex, but now… Something in him balked at it. Which was exactly why he forced himself to nod. He trusted Goemon. He _wanted_ Goemon inside him.

“Let’s do it like this,” Jigen suggested, resuming his position on top of Goemon’s hips and grinding down on him. He’d been able to take Zenigata this way before. It helped to have his lover facing him. It helped to be on top, in control of the pace and the depth. Maybe someday he could work his way up to other positions, even having someone take him from behind, but right now his belly lurched at the thought. 

As though Goemon could see all of those thoughts behind Jigen’s eyes, he nodded in return. His hands came to rest on Jigen’s hips, thumbs stroking the smooth bit of skin just above where his leg hair began. “Yes.”

Jigen moved aside so that Goemon could unwrap his fundoshi. Meanwhile, he scooped a generous amount of the strange homemade lube onto his fingertips and began to prep himself. The slimy substance was cool and kind of lumpy and jelly-like, but it did the job. Even the stretch of his own fingers generated less discomfort than usual. Jigen wondered if that was the clove oil; he’d used it for toothaches before in a pinch. “Hmm. This stuff is pretty nice.”

“I prefer it to modern solutions.” Goemon reached for the jar himself, using his hand to coat his naked cock. Jigen got a good look at him and had to swallow hard. Goemon was… well, not as big as Zenigata, but he was far from small. Also, _damn_ , he had one of the prettiest dicks Jigen had ever seen. His hole twitched around his own fingers eagerly.

“Of course, you would.” There was no bite to his words, however, as his resolve wavered. “Uh, condoms?”

Goemon grimaced. “Sorry. Will that be a problem?”

“Just makes cleanup easier, but it should be fine. I got nothing you can catch.”

“Nor do I. Are you ready?”

Jigen nodded and swung a leg over Goemon’s hips once more, but once he was there, Goemon’s slick cock resting up against the underside of his own, he froze in place. C _an I do this? What if I snap again? What if I have another flashback? Oh, fuck, he’s big. Goddamnit, do **something** , he’s going to think you’re crazy!_

“Jigen?” Goemon’s brow was furrowed with concern, looking up at him with his hair spread across the futon, utterly and painfully gorgeous. Jigen should be jumping at the chance to ride him. Instead, he knelt there, thighs and chin trembling, erection wilting.

“I…” But Jigen’s throat closed against his words, and instead a high, animal whine escaped him. 

Goemon looked alarmed, then sat up and wrapped his arms around Jigen in a way he certainly meant to be comforting. Instead, Jigen thrashed against him immediately with a feral snarl and Goemon released him, eyes wide. Panting, Jigen scrambled off of him and sat on the edge of the futon, drawing his bony knees up to his chest and tucking his head until he was as small as possible. Goemon gave him space until his breathing slowed. Jigen’s face flushed with shame. He flinched when he felt something touch his shoulders, but it was just Goemon draping a blanket around him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jigen rasped, throat still tight. His eyes stung and he was horrified when the first hot tears rolled down his cheeks and into his beard. 

“As I have said, no apology is necessary,” Goemon told him, voice quiet yet firm. “I will heat some water for washing.”

Jigen appreciated being given some time to calm himself and wipe his tears discreetly on the blanket. The mortification rose hotly in his throat until he tasted bile, but he forced it back down. He was not puking on Goemon’s tatami floors. He wanted to get dressed, but he was still uncomfortably sticky. 

A few minutes later, Goemon padded over to him holding a bucket of steaming water and a clean rag, as well as a towel. Goemon didn’t have a proper bath up here yet—though he said he did have plans to build an addition onto the cabin—so they did most of their bathing in the mountain stream. Jigen could tolerate the cold water well enough (though that sometimes brought up unpleasant memories as well), but he was grateful for the luxury of being able to wipe himself down with a warm, damp cloth. Goemon knelt on the other side of the bucket and cleaned himself with his own rag. The silence between them was heavy, but not as tense as Jigen might have expected. 

Once he was clean, Jigen muttered a barely intelligible “thanks” as he got up and went to Goemon’s small closet. He dressed quickly. His usual suits didn’t make much sense up here in the mountains, so he’d packed some more casual clothing: lightweight slacks and linen button-down shirts, even a yukata in deference to the more traditional setting. He did have one summer-weight suit, too. For a moment, he considered taking his clothes down from the rod and packing them in his suitcase, hiking back down to the car, and leaving. Ultimately, though, he decided that was a cowardly way of dealing with the situation. It was unfair to Goemon, too, who had done nothing but show him patience and hospitality. Besides, if they didn’t resolve things now, it was going to be impossible to work together in the future. 

Goemon had dressed as well, wearing his own yukata, but forgoing the hakama trousers. Cicadas buzzed shrilly outside as if to announce that the day would be swelteringly hot. Jigen could already feel the sweat prickling down the back of his neck. He slid one of the doors open and sat down on the narrow deck for a smoke. Goemon joined him shortly with a pot of tea and two handmade ceramic cups. Their silence was more companionable now as Jigen let the nicotine calm him further. He even drank some of the tea Goemon poured for him, finding it preferable to having no caffeine at all, though it wasn’t as good as a proper coffee. 

“It was a panic attack,” Jigen said, finally. “I still have them, sometimes. Never when I’m getting shot at, or running from the cops, or dodging weird booby traps. It’s only…” He waved vaguely but eloquently at his crotch. 

Nodding, Goemon sipped his tea. “I thought it might be something like that. You owe me neither an explanation nor an apology, however.”

“I beg to differ,” Jigen said. “I was acting pretty damn weird. Kind of a letdown to get that far and suddenly have me making animal noises and freaking out.”

“Yes, but I know what happened to you. It wasn’t your—”

“Don’t,” Jigen bit out, cutting him off. “Don’t pity me.”

Goemon sighed, his face pinched with frustration. “I don’t pity you, Jigen. I am just saying, I understand why this happened. There is no cause for shame.”

“Would you say the same if it were you?” Jigen gave him a challenging stare. Goemon met it, but looked away first. Jigen snorted. “I thought not.”

“You are being unreasonable,” Goemon said. He stood and took the teapot with him. “I am going to train. Come find me when you are ready.”

“Ready for what?” Jigen called after him, but didn’t receive an answer. He felt even worse, now. Once again, he considered leaving. Things were so awkward and strained between them, he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d left men for less. Lupin would be pissed off, but maybe they could get by without Goemon for awhile until things were less weird. Or maybe Lupin would be sick of his shit, too, and leave him. Oh. There was another panic attack coming on.

When Jigen came back to himself, he realized he’d dashed his teacup on the ground outside the front door. It had broken into three pieces on the hard-packed earth, not shattered as it might have been on a harder surface. He picked the pieces up carefully and wrapped them in his handkerchief. Wonderful. Now he had even more reason for Goemon to be upset with him. This was getting out of hand. 

Maybe he could still salvage things. He scribbled a quick note and left it on the cabinet, held down by the blue jar. Then, he began the long hike down the mountain.

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jigen and Goemon talk about breaking things and fixing them, and they do some training. Mostly Goemon POV while previous chapters were Jigen POV. Somewhat. I play kinda fast and loose with that.

Goemon did not notice Jigen’s absence right away. He spent the morning training, came back to eat a light lunch of rice and pickled plums, and then went right back out to meditate under the waterfall. It wasn’t until he returned to start dinner that he realized Jigen wasn’t there. He’d been gone at lunch, too, but Goemon had assumed he was still nearby. His suitcase and clothes were still in the closet. Then, he saw the note. 

> _Goemon,_
> 
> _I need some time to clear my head. Gone to town for the day. Should be back later tonight. Don’t wait up for me._
> 
> _-Jigen_

The nearest town was a little over four hours away, in a different direction than Jigen’s car had been parked. Goemon had a moment of worry that Jigen wouldn’t be able to find it, before he remembered that Jigen knew how to use a map and compass—not to mention the GPS on his phone. The signal was spotty up in the mountains but it existed. 

With a sigh, Goemon cleaned and scraped the fish he’d caught and set them over the hearth to grill. He made enough for two, just in case, but Jigen did not return for dinner. Goemon ignored the instruction in the note and sat out on his front stoop to smoke a pipe, keeping an eye on the path that led down the mountain from his cabin. It was well after dark when Jigen appeared on the path, trudging unsteadily up the steep incline. Goemon stood, relief evident in the set of his shoulders. 

Jigen offered him a little wave when he saw Goemon waiting, and Goemon raised his hand as well. “I told you not to wait up,” Jigen said, winded. “I wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

“It’s not that late,” Goemon said. “I saved you something to eat.”

“Thanks.” But Jigen didn’t go inside right away. Instead, he unslung a bag from his back and pulled something out of it. He handed the parcel to Goemon. “Here. This is yours.”

Goemon unwrapped the tissue paper carefully and stared down at his cup. Or, it looked like one of his cups, but it had veins of gold running through it now. “This is…”

“Kintsugi. I was just going to see if I could buy another one like it, but this old lady said she could fix it up better than new. She explained it to me. Real nice old gal, had me stay for a drink while I waited for it to set. Said that when things broke, they could be made useful again with kintsugi, using lacquer with gold powder mixed in.”

It took Goemon a moment to parse Jigen’s words. “You… broke my cup?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was an accident. But it gave me a good excuse to go do something for awhile, figure things out.” Jigen took a deep breath. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Kintsugi. So, I asked her, sort of joking, does that work on people? You know, put some gold in my crack and make me all better again?” He laughed at his own crude joke. “But she just said, ‘No, dumbass, people aren’t teacups or vases. You can’t stick them back together and expect them to be the way they were again.’ And of course I know that. Scars take time to form, and no amount of gold powder can make them into something pretty. Anyway, people don’t break the same as teacups in the first place.”

Goemon turned the cup slowly in his hands, looking at the fine gold lines. It did make the cup look more beautiful somehow, the imperfection adding to the appeal. He said, quietly: “You are not broken, Jigen.”

“I know.” Jigen came closer, stepped up onto the deck. He tipped his hat back to allow Goemon to see his eyes. “I almost was, but I’ve had time to heal. It’s not always a tidy thing, though. Some parts are scarred over, but some parts, the skin’s still so thin that I’ll bleed again if I move wrong. Even when I think that part is fine already.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I fucked up today, and I’ve been fucking up. I haven’t been letting anyone see these cracks in me until something bleeds out of them and I can’t hide it anymore. Trying to hide it just makes everything worse. Lupin is getting sick of me already. I don’t want the same thing to happen with you.” 

Goemon realized then that Jigen was drunk. There was a drinking gourd hanging loosely from his belt, apparently another purchase from town. The sweet scent of sake hung on his breath, and while he was coherent enough, he was rambling. “Jigen, I am not sick of you. I don’t want you to leave, either. Please, come inside. We can talk more tomorrow if you like.”

“I want you to understand,” Jigen pleaded. “Goemon, I respect you so much, man. I like you. But you can’t know what I’ve been through, and I can’t explain it, either. I don’t know when I’m going to be okay with this, or if I’ll ever be able to be with you the way we both seem to want. I _do_ want it, though. I want _you_.”

The warmth that coiled in his chest at the admission was somewhat tainted with the knowledge that Jigen was speaking _in vino veritas_. Regardless, Goemon accepted Jigen’s clumsy embrace and held him close, but not tightly. “I like you, too, Jigen.”

Jigen’s kiss was warm and whiskery and tasted of sake. Goemon allowed it, but did not deepen it or encourage more. Jigen pulled away with a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

He still seemed so fragile, emotionally. The rejection obviously hurt him, but Goemon could not bear to take advantage of him in this state. “You are drunk. It wouldn’t be right.”

“No, it’s perfect, don’t you see? If I’m drunk, I’m all relaxed and stuff. I won’t get tensed up like before. I won’t have one of those stupid attacks. It’ll be fine!”

He tried to go for another kiss, but this time Goemon stopped him with a hand between their mouths. “Jigen. No.”

Jigen’s face crumpled for a second and he tipped his head forward until the brim of his hat obscured his eyes again. “Yeah. Okay. I get it.”

Goemon sighed. “Go eat, drink water, and come to bed.”

He put the repaired teacup on a shelf in what passed for a kitchen in his home. The covered bowl he’d kept warm in the embers of the fire was removed and set down at the table, along with a large cup of water. Jigen ate and drank in silence. Once he was finished, Goemon cleared the table and moved it aside to make room for the futon. Jigen found his nightshirt and got changed. Goemon simply wore his yukata to bed. 

To Jigen’s surprise, Goemon pulled him into a spooning position as soon as they were under the blankets. He kept his embrace loose enough that Jigen didn’t feel trapped. What he felt, instead, was _safe_.

“Goemon,” he murmured. His hands held Goemon’s arms, as if to keep him in place. “Let’s try training again tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Goemon agreed. 

…

There was no surprise wrestling match in the morning. Goemon woke Jigen at what was—in Jigen’s opinion—a rudely early hour, then forced him to drink more water and eat rice with a raw egg cracked into it. Jigen clearly regretted drinking so much sake the previous night. He bore this treatment with a surprising lack of complaint, however, even doing his best to follow along with Goemon’s sunrise stretch and kata routine. Lunch was simple, followed by meditation at the waterfall. Jigen only managed a few minutes beneath the chilly water, but he continued to meditate on his own on the dry rocks nearby. While Goemon cooked wild pheasant for their dinner, Jigen took apart and cleaned the Magnum with meticulous care. After dinner, they smoked in silence on the deck and watched the sunset. They hardly exchanged a word all day. 

As the sky darkened into night, Goemon thought perhaps now they could speak more about their feelings for one another, maybe even share some low-pressure physical intimacy. However, the instant the futon was prepared, Jigen fell into it. He was snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

“I suppose I did work you hard today,” Goemon chuckled quietly, tugging the blanket up over Jigen.

…

They didn’t speak the next day, either, outside of short exchanges to facilitate cooking meals and other necessary tasks. Jigen seemed to be applying himself with extra focus to training. He even picked up a bokken and let Goemon walk him through a series of positions. This necessitated a more hands-on approach. Goemon kept the touch platonic and professional, strictly teacher-student levels of appropriate, and Jigen likewise showed no sign of taking the opportunity to lean into Goemon’s embrace when the samurai corrected his arm position from behind. They ate, they smoked, and once again Jigen went to sleep without saying anything of consequence. 

Goemon was confused. After the torrent of words the other night, had Jigen simply run dry? Was he regretting what he had said? Had he changed his mind? Was he too embarrassed to bring it up again?

Had Goemon’s refusal to become intimate with Jigen while he was drunk been taken as a permanent rejection?

There was something pure and comforting about training with Jigen like this, despite the twist of unease that buried itself in Goemon’s gut. It was something that he’d wanted, if he was being honest with himself: sharing his world with his friends the way they’d always shared theirs with him. They teased him for his old-fashioned ways, but they accepted him as he was. He appreciated that more than he could say. Sometimes he felt like a time traveler, having been raised in this lifestyle from a simpler time, overwhelmed by the chaos and noise of the wider world—even when he sought out that chaos himself at Lupin’s side. Seeing Jigen here, wearing traditional clothes and following Goemon’s daily routines, reminded him how lonely he was on this mountain sometimes.

It pleased him to see Jigen’s olive skin growing even more tanned in the late summer sun, lean muscles finding new definition as he moved in ways a modern gym did not challenge him to move. Jigen had to borrow a tie for his unruly hair, which had been overdue for a cut before he’d come to the mountain, and Goemon could not deny staring with longing at the way the sweat beaded and tracked down his bared neck into the collar of his yukata. He still had a smile for Goemon when he offered a hand to help Jigen up after besting him in a practice bokken duel, or when he caught Goemon glancing at him while they enjoyed their evening smoke. The silence shared between them was more comfortable than not, yet Goemon could not stop wondering. It was a distraction that he was finding difficult to transcend.

By the end of the second week of Jigen’s stay, Goemon had resigned himself to this pattern. There was no sense in trying to return to what _almost_ was, if Jigen did not want it. Everything in the universe was simply as it _was_ , not inherently good or bad. He breathed in acceptance and exhaled disappointment, regret. He _would_ transcend this.

 _No_ , Goemon decided, exactly ten seconds later. _I must be clear about my feelings, or nothing will happen. And if through my cowardly inaction I blow my chance to kiss Jigen ever again, I will lose my entire mind._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jigen and Goemon finally have a Talk.

The next morning, Goemon woke to the smell of breakfast. Jigen had awoken before him, for once, and already had the rice going and was cracking eggs into a pan. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Jigen gloated. “I’d ask how you like your eggs, but I know damn well I can’t make a Japanese omelet to save my life, so you’re getting scrambled.”

“Mm. That’s fine,” Goemon mumbled, wondering if he had fallen into an alternate reality. Stranger things had happened to him. Like that time he was eaten by a dragon. He was so caught off guard by this turn of events that he didn’t remember his resolution until he was washing up the dishes. Jigen had already gone outside to start his stretches by then.

Jigen wore his yukata for training more often than not, now, though he wore a pair of light jogging pants under it in case he wanted to take it off in the hotter part of the day. Today, Goemon could see the lighter tan of his hairy legs beneath the yukata, meaning he’d either switched to shorts or just his underwear beneath. Goemon closed his eyes. _Transcend. Transcend…_

“Jigen,” he said, finally ready to lay his cards on the table. Which was a terrible metaphor, because he was the worst at poker. “I wanted to talk to you about… what happened between us.”

Jigen straightened from his lunge pose and turned to face Goemon slowly. He still had enough fluffy bangs in front to hide his eyes when needed, though he’d taken to putting his hat away during training sessions. His expression was unreadable, and his voice was guarded. “What’s there to talk about?” 

“I do not want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Goemon prefaced. Jigen snorted, as though Goemon could make him do _anything_ if he really didn’t want to do it. “I simply wish to understand what… what we are, to one another.”

“I thought that was pretty clear,” Jigen said. His tone gave no hint, however, and Goemon was just as mystified as before.

“Not to me, it seems. Please. Humor me.”

Jigen sighed, crossing his arms. “We’re partners. Just like we’re partners with Lupin. And, sometimes, even with Fujiko, when she can stand to work with us without pulling a double cross.”

“Yes. Partners.” Goemon nodded. “Also, we are comrades, closer than blood.”

“Sure,” Jigen agreed readily. “As for everything else… I’m not sure yet.”

Goemon felt that twist in his gut again. “Ah. Of course. I apologize for bothering you.”

His disappointment must have been more obvious than he thought, because Jigen stepped closer to him. “Hey,” he said, voice low, eyes just visible under the shaggy fringe of his hair. “I’m sorry, if I got your hopes up.”

Goemon shook his head. “No, you don’t—”

“I know I don’t have to apologize, but I’m sorry anyway, okay?” Jigen huffed impatiently and rubbed the back of his neck, his ponytail keeping his hair from sticking to it with sweat. “Goemon, I have burned so many bridges with people I’ve gotten involved with. Lupin keeps poking fun at me for my exes always coming back to kill me, but it’s not even really a joke, you know? And I don’t want that with you. So, I’m trying to do the responsible thing here, and tell you: I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I am grateful. I really am.”

It sounded frighteningly like a break-up. Like good-bye. Goemon’s throat went tight, and he knew if he used his voice, tears would follow. His whisper was strained, strangled: “Are you leaving?”

“Would you rather I left?” Jigen looked at him, wary, resigned, but leaving the final decision to Goemon.

“No!” The vehemence of that word broke through the dam against his tears, and he could feel them rolling hot down his cheeks. “Jigen, I—I don’t know what to say or do, but I want you here with me, for as long as you’ll stay. I just want _you_. Here.”

Something in Jigen’s expression cracked and he looked away suddenly. “Jeez, Goemon. You can’t just say stuff like that to a guy,” he chuckled wetly. Goemon realized that he was weeping, too. “You’ll make me think you’re in love with me or something.”

Goemon shook his head. “I don’t know what this is. All I know is, we almost had sex, it didn’t work out, but every day since then I’ve been thinking about how you told me you liked me, how you wanted to kiss me and try again.”

“And you stopped me, which was probably for the best,” Jigen said, accepting that his drunken come-ons weren’t exactly the height of good judgment.

“I didn’t want to push you away, though! Not forever. Not even for more than a night.” Goemon took a deep breath. “I thought you needed space, so I let you have that. Perhaps I should have made my feelings known sooner.”

“You were fine, Goemon.” Jigen stepped closer, taking one of his hands carefully, as though Goemon might yank it away. “I was the one who was trying not to acknowledge my own feelings. And maybe… I wanted some time to feel like I could be worthy of you. Ready for you.”

“Even if you are _n_ _ever_ ready to be with me in that way again, I would still want you by my side.” Goemon squeezed the hand that Jigen had taken.

Jigen snickered and rested his forehead on Goemon’s shoulder. “That’s gay, dude.”

“You say that as though we have not touched each other, and other men, in an intimate fashion.”

“Yeah, see, now you made it _extra_ gay.”

They laughed together, moving into an embrace that was as much for comfort as it was holding each other up from laughing so hard at such a stupid joke. Jigen wiped his tears on his yukata sleeve, then reached up to wipe away Goemon’s as well. “Of course you had to get all dramatic and emotional about this,” he teased. “You and your radio dramas and kabuki theater.”

“I have seen you become plenty emotional over sports broadcasts and old Westerns,” Goemon returned. 

“That’s different.”

It really wasn’t, but Goemon let it go. “Do you wish to continue training, then?”

“I think I’d rather kiss you.” Jigen held Goemon’s warm, flushed face between his palms and drew him close. Goemon went willingly and met Jigen’s lips with his own. This was not the frantic, clumsy morning kiss they’d shared a week ago, nor was it the sake-sweet kiss that had followed the same evening. It was slow and sun-warmed, exploring, achingly tender. Goemon thought of all those who came before him who had been allowed to kiss Jigen, and decided they were fools, every last one, for ever letting Jigen go. Their loss was his gain, however, so he thanked them as well. 

Jigen deepened the kiss, and Goemon felt that familiar fire ignite in his blood, pulse racing. Goemon’s strong hands cradled Jigen, one at the small of his back, the other between his shoulder blades, and his grip tightened when Jigen drew Goemon’s lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it. A soft moan huffed through his nose as he felt teeth scrape across the inside of that same lip. Releasing Goemon’s mouth, Jigen dropped a gentler peck on his cheek. 

“Let’s go inside,” Jigen suggested, and Goemon swiftly nodded his agreement.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEX HAPPENS HERE. WE MADE IT.

They tumbled onto the half-folded futon, only not put away because Goemon had wanted to speak with Jigen before the day had grown any older. Kissing and rolling over one another, hands groping and pushing haphazardly at clothing, it was Goemon who finally untied both of their yukata and helped Jigen shrug out of his before removing his own. Jigen was, indeed, only wearing his briefs under the airy garment. He shuddered when Goemon traced the outline of his erection through the fabric with his fingertips. 

“Is this all right?” Goemon asked, tugging the elastic waistband of Jigen’s underwear down over his hips. Jigen nodded jerkily. 

“Let’s just keep it simple,” Jigen suggested gruffly. “Hands and mouths. Don’t need to get your weird yam-lube involved that way.” He grinned to soften the jibe. 

Huffing indignantly, though half-joking himself, Goemon said, “I grated those yams myself, I’ll have you know.”

Jigen cackled and kissed him again, toying with the twisted fabric over Goemon’s hips. “Well, maybe we’ll find a use for it after all. For now, I’m gonna need you to take this off, because I still have no idea how you tie the damn thing.”

Goemon got up on his knees and made a show of untwisting and unwrapping the long strip of cloth that made up his fundoshi. Jigen watched appreciatively, eyes lingering on the way the old-fashioned underwear hugged Goemon’s gorgeous cock. He was speared by such a sudden, vivid jolt of _want_ that he grunted in surprise, squeezing the base of his own dick to keep it from going off prematurely. Lupin joked about his point-three second draw for a reason. Goemon just looked smug, as well he should.

“Yeah, all right, I’ll get the lube,” Jigen mumbled. Goemon could move his hands so fast, he’d probably start a fire with a dry hand job, anyway. There would be blistering. Nobody wanted that.

When he returned with the jar, Goemon took it from him and set it aside, pulling Jigen into yet another deep, hungry kiss. His hands spread over Jigen’s back, smoothing over warm, tanned skin. When he reached Jigen’s ass, he gave it an appreciative squeeze, then moved his hands up to Jigen’s chest instead. Jigen just panted softly, the mild stimulation winding him up so much he wanted to shove Goemon down and fuck him senseless. “Goemon, stop teasing,” he groaned as the samurai thumbed his nipples in a way that should not have felt as good as it did. “Sit down and spread your legs a little.”

Goemon did as he was asked, and Jigen settled into the space between his legs, his own legs hooked over Goemon’s hips. Jigen scooted closer until they were face-to-face and cock-to-cock. He scooped a glob of the yam lube onto his fingers, didn’t even wait for it to warm up because the ambient temperature was already sultry, and slathered it thickly over their cocks. Wrapping his fingers around both of them, squeezing them together in the slick vice of his grip, he gave them a slow stroke from root to tip. Goemon uttered a shivering moan, hips bucking involuntarily for more friction. Jigen held him down with his free hand on Goemon’s thigh and continued stroking at a tortuously slow pace. 

“Jigen,” Goemon gasped, his own hand joining Jigen’s and wrapping around it from the other side, forming a more complete circle around their slippery cocks. He let Jigen set the pace but added to the pressure and heat surrounding them both. “Oh, _Jigen_ , it feels…”

“So fuckin’ good,” Jigen groaned, unintentionally finishing Goemon’s thought. “Fuck, Goemon, you’re so gorgeous. Been wanting to touch you like this for so long.”

“Ahhh… same.” Goemon’s flushed face, somehow, found a deeper shade of crimson. “This past week especially, I kept looking at you, wanting you. You’re a very attractive man, Jigen Daisuke.”

“Don’t— _hnnngh_ —exaggerate,” Jigen panted, increasing the speed of his hand. Goemon’s kept up, lacing his fingers between Jigen’s and squeezing. Though the lubricant was unusual, it really did feel good. The wet squelching sounds of their dicks pumping between their hands were obscene, but that just made it even hotter. 

“I’m not,” Goemon protested. “I’ve always thought you handsome. Your beard is… sexy.”

Jigen laughed breathlessly, his rhythm faltering, but he kept going. “You’re so goddamn cute it’s surreal. I’ve seen what you can do with that sword and I still think you’re adorable. Kawaii as fuck.”

Goemon pouted. “Sh-shut up, I am not cute.”

“You are,” Jigen assured him, almost cooing his words. “Precious, pretty Goemon, so incredibly hot, with the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. I just wanna put it in my mouth and—”

He was interrupted by a guttural moan from Goemon, who had finally reached the limit of sweet talk he could take, cock pulsing out thick gouts of come over their joined hands. Jigen gentled his strokes, milking the last few drops from Goemon’s sensitive cock until the samurai shuddered and pulled away. Jigen licked some of the slick from his hand experimentally, finding Goemon’s come plus the yam lube surprisingly inoffensive to taste. All that clean, natural living really made a difference, it would seem.

Goemon caught his breath and shuddered again as he watched Jigen’s tongue dart out to sample the sticky mess, the image so erotic his cock gave a futile twitch in response. He had a relatively swift refractory period, but it was not instantaneous. Still, he bit his lip against the moan that rose in his throat. Jigen just grinned at him and offered a drenched hand. “You wanna taste?”

Shaking his head, Goemon shifted out from under Jigen’s legs until he was kneeling. “I’ll do one better.”

Then, he bend down and began to lap up the streaks of his own come from Jigen’s belly and thighs. Jigen’s cock, still hard and wanting, bobbed with anticipation as Goemon cleaned him with his tongue. Finally, Goemon circled the base of Jigen’s cock with his fingers and carefully licked every last drop of his release from it, dragging the wet velvet of his tongue flat against the shaft and over the dribbling head. 

Jigen groaned, leaning back on his elbows as his cock flexed in Goemon’s grasp. “Fuck, _Goemon_. I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up.”

“Good. Don’t hold back.” Goemon removed his lips from Jigen’s cock only long enough to speak, stroking the tight ring of his fingers along the shaft, then got right back to work. He sealed his lips around the head and sucked hard, tonguing at the slit while the fingers of his other hand reached under to tug delicately at Jigen’s balls. 

Like touching a live wire, the reaction was immediate and intense, Jigen shouting a wordless warning as he folded nearly in half from the orgasm that rolled through him. Goemon caught Jigen’s release in his mouth and swallowed it down automatically. Jigen flopped onto his back, boneless and spent, staring at the ceiling in wonder. Goemon wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and crawled up beside Jigen to wrap himself around the gunman in an octopus-like embrace. Jigen huffed a shaky laugh. 

“And to think, I was worried you might be a virgin.”

Goemon gave him an affronted look. “I’m not _that_ naive.”

“Well, no, I get that _now_.” Jigen patted his long, disheveled hair without thinking, getting come and lube in the dark strands. “Ah, sorry.”

Goemon sighed and wrinkled his nose. “It will come out under the waterfall.”

“You’re still going to train?”

“Of course. But not just yet.” He tucked his head against Jigen’s neck and kissed him there. “For now, cuddles are required.”

Jigen chuckled fondly and slung an arm over Goemon as well. “I think I can handle that.”

Goemon pulled him closer with a satisfied hum and a languid smile. They basked in the afterglow, in the rising summer heat, and in the comfort that whatever shape this thing between them would take, they could make it work. 


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little scene where Jigen and Goemon meet up with Lupin

  
A few weeks later, as the heat of summer gave way to the first crisp breezes of autumn, Lupin did a double take upon seeing Jigen with Goemon. His surprise was not for the fact that they were together, per se, but rather for how much Jigen had changed in the past month and a half or so. His shaggy black hair was tied back in a ponytail beneath his hat, his suit fit a little differently, the hollows of his cheeks had filled out, he was sun-browned and _glowing_ … and he looked _happy_. The bent cigarette between his lips was unlit and seemed content to remain that way for the entire ride between the airport and the new safe house. Lupin filled the Fiat with his usual chatter, going on about upcoming jobs and laughing about a prank he’d pulled on ol’ Zenigata when they’d met by chance in Paris. Jigen added in commentary from time to time, grinning and relaxed, and Goemon contributed his companionable silence from the backseat. There was a distinctive shift in the energy from the last time they’d all sat in this car together, Lupin realized, and he could tell it was for the better. 

“So,” Lupin said casually, raising a brow at Goemon in the rearview mirror and smirking, “did you two finally fuck or what?”

Goemon went scarlet, but kept his mouth and eyes stubbornly shut. Jigen sputtered, finally smacking Lupin in the shoulder. “None of your damn business!”

“Aww, but I’m happy for you two!” Lupin cooed, giggling victoriously. “All that fresh air and exercise really gets the blood pumping, huh? Jigen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so healthy! Maybe next time I should join you two out in the mountains.”

Goemon cracked an eye open and frowned at Lupin’s suggestive leer. Then, he hummed contemplatively. 

“If you do that… we will need to grate _many_ more yams.”

Jigen was laughing too hard to explain why that was so funny, much to Lupin’s disgruntled confusion. And that was fine, too. Lupin didn’t need to know _everything_.

—

_end_


End file.
